


Chick Magnets

by SensationalSunburst



Series: Small Angry Gardeners [5]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Chickens, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: “Andrew, look!” Neil breathed, holding up a tiny silkie chick. He was seated next to Rebecca on the floor of the pen holding their newest chicks. They were crawling all over them, and Robert could see that several had settled in the fabric of his basketball shorts where it puddled around his thighs. His eyes were wide and bright, and although Robert's heart was buried along with Shannon, his late wife, he could see exactly why Andrew's entire person went loose at the sight of him.ORIn which Andrew and Neil adopt chickens.





	1. Fluff

Robert had seen a lot in his life. Too much, truly. So much that sometimes the plethora of plants occupying the back corner of his garden store looked a bit too much like the jungles of Vietnam for him to stand too close, lest he get surprised again in the mud and earth. It meant that he recognized other survivors, other men and women who wore the same look in their eyes, who held themselves like he did; like his son did. The kind of men and women like his son, who even as he shamelessly held onto his daughters with his biomechanical arm, scanned for exits and threats.

Robert wore his sleeve neatly pinned up these days, which meant when those two city boys pulled up to his shop in that fancy car of theirs, he was going to have to call for his granddaughter; as between their heights and his arm, they could occasionally use the help.

Both of the boys were survivors.

One wore his survival all over his body. He was littered in scars and burn marks in the shade of red that came with age and sun. 

The other held his survival in his eyes; pale gold like those of a tiger. A description he found especially accurate with the way he stalked, ever casual, like a predator through the aisle towards where Robert was restocking the garden hoes. 

“Robert.” Andrew greeted. He inclined his head as he turned towards the display, hands still stuck firmly in the pocket of his jeans. They were caked in dirt at the knees, or stained, but Robert was more interested in the slight pull to the side of his mouth. 

“H-hi Neil!” Rebecca, his granddaughter, called out over the music of the store, voice pitched in the same surprised/delighted screech that meant that Neil had managed to sneak up on her yet again. 

“Andrew.” Robert said, then gestured towards the metal garden hoe hanging before him, “Lemme guess, the metal broke on ya.” 

“The blade fell off.” 

“You wanna go with the solid wood this time, then?” 

“You can just say it.” 

“Where’s the pleasure in that? Besides, you got a solid what, year and a half, out of it?” 

Andrew flicked his eyes to the side, glaring at the smirk on Robert’s face, before snatching the wooden model he should have gotten a year ago off the rack. 

“Anything else for you today? We’ve got some chicks in.” Robert said, leading towards the register. Andrew paused and closed his eyes, tilting his head back towards the ceiling. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘I fucking knew it,’ or perhaps, ‘fucking Josten,’ but by then they were close enough to the registers that it was lost to the sound of the first round of spring chicks chirping. 

“Andrew, look!” Neil breathed, holding up a tiny silkie chick. He was seated next to Rebecca on the floor of the pen holding their newest chicks. The chicks were crawling all over them, and Robert could see that several had settled in the fabric of his basketball shorts where it puddled around him. His eyes were wide and bright, and although Robert's heart was buried along with Shannon, his late wife, he could see exactly why Andrew's entire person went loose at the sight of him.

“They're called silkie chickens,” Neil said, glancing at Rebecca who smiled encouragingly at him. He had his scarred hands carefully cupped around a fluffy grey chick who had settled into the warmth of his palms. 

“The cats will eat them.” 

“Rebecca said her grandmother had cats and chickens.” Neil said, he lifted the chick to his face and tilted it against his cheek, just under the pink of the scarring there.

“Yeah,” Rebecca stuttered, turning bright red as she looked up at Andrew from the circle of the chick’s pen, “Nana's cats use to like them like they were kittens.” 

Andrew's eyes slid over to Robert and he couldn't help but smirk, “Silkies are friendly little devils, good pets. Little eggs, though.” 

“Et tu?” 

Neil inhaled sharply, drawing Andrew's immediate attention, but his smile was blinding. “Andrew, Leigh will  _ love  _ them.”

Andrew stared him down, unblinking and drew his wallet from his back pocket. Without tearing his eyes away from where Neil was still rubbing his cheek against the fluff of a newborn chick, he pulled out his credit card and slapped it against Robert's chest. 

Robert couldn’t have held back his laughter if he tried. 


	2. Birds of a Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thea is away, the boys shall play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little away from me, but thank you for your patience.   
> Also...  
> spoilers for the Land Before Time?

Thea was a press goddess, it was a well known fact. Well known enough that her team, the New Jersey Sentinels, made her their go-to for press events with a historically high rate of failure. So, on a bright spring afternoon, she dropped off Kevin and Leigh, their son, at Andrew and Neil’s for the weekend so she could go verbally spar with ExySPN.

“Are we babysitting your husband?” Neil asked, incredulous. Kevin had sputtered, heat rising into his cheeks as he geared up for a vicious retort, but his verbal weapon was jammed as Leigh poked his head between Thea’s knees and beamed up at him. 

“Hi Uncle Neil! Mommy said you’re our babysitter!” 

Andrew’s snort echoed from deeper in the house, as he hadn’t bothered to answer the door. 

“Hi Uncle Dew!” Leigh shouted. Leigh, all of four and half, was quick as lightning and Neil barely had time to dodge before he darted into the house, the only evidence that he made it to his target the muffled, “Hello, Leigh.” Andrew said as the boy invariably threw his entire body against his godfather’s knees.

\----

Eventually they ended up outside so that Leigh could say hello to the Ladies; Ruthy and Toothy, their silkie chickens. 

As predicted by Robert, the old man who owned their local garden store, and to Andrew's eternal annoyance, the cats had taken to the chickens as if they were their own kittens. After hours of screaming at the sliding glass door at where Andrew and Neil had set up the chick’s temporary pen, they'd introduced them to the cats one at a time. 

The purring has been immediate and overwhelming and by the end of the day all four were napping in the late afternoon sunbeams that striped the back porch, warming the wood. The image had made Neil so starry-eyed that Andrew had been forced to send Nicky a photo.

Leigh had, as predicted,  _ adored _ them and had listened intently to the instructions on being gentle. The adoration seemed to go both ways as the chicks followed him around constantly and settled in his lap whenever possible, but that also could have been due to the Cheerios crushed in his pockets.

Leigh had just lead the chickens back to their pen when he suddenly turned, giggled and sprinted for Andrew. 

“You're It!” He cried, smacking Andrew's thigh. He danced back, beaming in the face of Andrew's blank faced momentary confusion. 

“Uh, oh.” Neil said, sweeping in behind Leigh. He bent at the knees to put his hands on his shoulders, resting his chin on the bed of Leigh's midnight curls. 

“Uncle Andrew is the best tag player there is,” Neil warned, voice serious despite the mirth in his eyes, “Laser-like focus, agility, and an iron will.” 

“Don't quote that dumbass article at me.” Andrew said, he took a step forward and Neil and Leigh leapt back. 

“Oh! Here he comes!” Neil said. Leigh mimicked his stance, knees bent and smiling, ready to go. Neil's eyes caught his attention as always and he immediately recognized the yes or no question held there. Leigh was going to shriek the second he moved, and although it would be happy shriek, it still had the potential to trip a wire he may have missed whist disarming the triggers of his past. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Bee, nonjudgmental and blessedly clinical. Together, they walked through the situation, poking at dark corners for anything lurking. Anything sinister that would change a game into a nightmare.

Neil was giving him an out, obviously; turning subtly so he could jump forward and take over the game if Andrew so much as blinked in a manner that suggested discomfort.

But when he stopped and looked, really  _ looked _ , nothing seemed barbed. His mental minesweeper gave the all clear. So, he shifted his weight and lifted his eyebrows, eliciting a string of excited giggles from Leigh. He bent his knees and Neil and Leigh sank even lower, sprinters at the starting line. 

He pounced forward, purposefully missing snatching the boy up. Leigh squealed, dodging left with the kind of grace that must have been passed down by his father. Neil streaked in front of him, laughing, and bent his back to avoid Andrew's seeking fingers. 

“Andrew's It. Be careful.” Neil said as Kevin excited the house. Kevin observed the scene with a small, private smile, his real smile, and set aside the sippy cup of lemonade to join the game. 

“It's almost like practice.” He reasoned, which was just annoying enough for Andrew to shoot after him. 

“Run, Daddy!” Leigh shouted and Kevin leapt to the side and snatched Neil up by the waist as he made to pass by to chuck him bodily at Andrew. Neil made a sound suspiciously close to a squeal, surprise and outrage warring on his face. 

Andrew caught him automatically, shifting to plant his foot behind him and somehow managing to not go down in a tangle of limbs. Neil had bulked over time; the side effects of an absence of existential terror, but maintaining a position on a professional team meant that Andrew had as well. Besides, there existed no world in which Andrew would let Neil fall. 

“You’re such an asshole, Kevin.” Neil snarled as Andrew righted him, a hand steady on the small of his back. Neil threw Andrew a dazzling, thankful smile and leaned in. 

“You’re It.” Andrew said against his lips, pausing just a breath away, before throwing himself backwards and across the lawn. 

\----

“Uncle Andrew?” 

Andrew looked down at where Leigh was staring up at him from across the picnic blanket. He pushed the brim up his floppy Sentinels sunhat, a gift from Nicky, out of his eyes before returning both hands to Sir’s fur. The cat was curled tightly in his lap, his fluffy tail covering his face and purring like a jet engine. 

“Where’s your mommy?” 

Andrew blinked, only the miniscule lift to his eyebrows betraying  his surprise. Neil snapped his head up so fast he felt his neck pop. 

“She's dead.” Andrew replied after a moment, he picked up another cookie and took his time breaking it into chunks to eat. 

“Oh.” Leigh said, but his face still held the look of intense focus that he shared with his father. He stroked Sir’s head, slowly and gently as he'd been told to be.

(The concept of death had been explained over the world’s worst movie night, where Neil had insisted they watch the Land Before Time, despite Andrew’s explicit warnings. 

Neil had left the room and began stress baking as soon as Littlefoot’s mother’s fate became clear, the go-to coping method he’d developed with his therapist, whilst Kevin had fought tears trying to explain it to Leigh.)

“Where’s your daddy?” 

“He's dead too.” Andrew said. “Why?” 

“Well,” Leigh said, “We saw Grandpa, but not grandma. We saw Nana and Poppa. And daddy said that…” 

He trailed off, distracted as Ruthy  clucked over and settled at his hip. After a moment of visible indecision he sacrificed one hand on Sir to begin to gently pet the chicken. Ruthy pecked once at Sir’s twitching tail and the cat stood up, licked the chicken once, and then curled back under Leigh’s palm. 

“What did Daddy say, Leigh?” Andrew asked, ever patient. 

“Daddy said that grampa was  _ his _ daddy. But we never see your daddy. Uncle Neil’s daddy doesn't visit neither. Does Uncle Neil have a mommy and daddy?” 

“No.” Andrew bit into another cookie. “Neil's parents are dead. Like mine and Uncle Aaron's.” 

“Oh.” Leigh said again, “Sad?” 

“No.” Andrew said, he glanced over Leigh's head where Neil stood, frozen. Horrified that they were discussing it at all but shamefully relived that Leigh had chosen Andrew to ask. Kevin’s anxiety was was a living, breathing thing next to him where he'd frozen halfway to the basket of weeds between them. 

They had all discussed, at length, what they would tell Leigh when he inevitably asked about Neil's scars and his father's tattoo. They tried to flesh out plans of what they would say when he got old enough,and curious enough, to do an internet search on their names. How they would explain the fame and infamy, the articles and blog posts? Uncle Nicky's Twitter. 

They couldn't lie, mostly because Andrew wouldn't and Leigh already knew that Uncle Andrew always told the Truth. But how, Neil had asked, was he supposed to explain the concept of his father's boundless cruelty to someone who had only ever been treated with kindness? 

“I miss Mommy.” Leigh confessed softly, he’d pulled his tiny shoulders up, clearly fighting tears as he chewed on his bottom lip. Absently, Andrew made a mental note to tell Kevin to keep his anxious tells to himself. 

“I know, but she'll be back tomorrow.” Leigh immediately relaxed, nodding at the Truth in Andrew’s words. 

“Do you miss  _ your  _ mommy? Are you lonely?” Leigh said. Andrew's lip twitched and he shook his head.

“No.” Andrew said. “I have you and Neil and your parents.” 

“And Sir and King and Ruthy and Toothy.” Leigh giggled. He leaned forward and pressed his face into Sir’s fluff, an occurrence so common that the cat did nothing more than meow, just once and strain to lick at a wayward curl. 

“Contain yourselves.” Andrew sighed, looking beyond Leigh's bowed head at Neil's sucker punched expression and the suspicious shine to Kevin's eyes. But Kevin ripped off his gardening gloves and rushed them both, scooping up Leigh to the boy’s giggly amusement and settling heavily in front of Andrew. He didn’t reach out for him, though he clearly wanted to, but he knocked their knees together and that seemed to be good enough.

“Hi, Daddy!” Leigh said, oblivious to his father’s tension. Kevin deflated and pressed a heavy kiss against Leigh’s head. 

“Hello, Leigh. I love you so much, you know that?” 

“I love you too! And Uncle Dew!”

“I love you too, Leigh.” 

“I love Uncle Neil!” 

“I love you too.” Neil said, settling on the picnic blanket next to Andrew. His hand found Andrew’s knee, and Andrew automatically reached out an linked their fingers together. 

It wasn't what he ever thought he’d want, or what he’d ever imagined he’d need, but as Andrew tightened his hold on Neil’s hand, he knew he’d never let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recognize what Nora said in the extra content, but I respectfully disagree. Andrew and Neil may not say it often, but I refuse to believe that they would never say "I love you."


End file.
